


Back From The Edge

by raimykeller



Series: wtfandomfusion - summer 2017 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Evil Argents, Healer Stiles, Human Derek Hale, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Scott and Stiles are stepbrothers, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Stiles is an elf, Vaguely Lord of the Rings related, injured derek, set in middle earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:32:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11528505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raimykeller/pseuds/raimykeller
Summary: Thousands of years after the battle for Middle Earth, another human and elf find their very own love story.orElf Stiles finds Human Derek injured in the enchanted forest of Beacon.





	Back From The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> WTFF - WTFandomFusion - is the brainchild of [ quizasvivamos ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos) as something fun to do over the summer! 
> 
> WTFF is a 10-week writing and art challenge, beginning June 19th and ending August 27th. Each week, we'll have a new prompt that includes a different featured fandom, a randomly selected profession, and a randomly chosen beverage. Other than that, there are no rules! Join the fun and follow the challenge on [ tumblr ](https://wtfandomfusion.tumblr.com/) !
> 
> Week Four Prompt Words: Lord of the Rings, food service worker (i used Cook), hot chocolate

"There you are, son. There is a disturbance at the western edge of the forest. A young lady reported a dark figure stumbling along the edge of the river.”

Stiles was startled by his father’s voice. He had been hunched over in the library reading a particularly intriguing book about the practical uses of the dragon’s breath flower when the King spoke to him. John smiled bemusedly at his son’s less-than-graceful flailing at being interrupted. 

Quickly composing himself, Stiles cleared his throat. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it would seem a human has stumbled onto our land. I need you to go there. If he is unhurt, send him on his way."

"Father, that is silly. Humans don't just stumble into enchanted forests."

"That is why I am sending you, Stiles. Should you show him his way home, he shall not remember what he has seen."

:::

Stiles wrapped his warmest cloak around his shoulders and shouldered his bow, only as a precaution, he hoped. He's never had to use it on a human and prays he never will. Stiles isn't a fighter. His specialty is magic, particularly healing, just like his mother. He lets his father and stepbrother handle the weaponry. 

As Stiles sets off towards the west, he lets his magic run free, creating blooms of bright yellow and pink flowers wherever his feet touch the forest floor. Walking through the forest like this, alone and undisturbed, is rejuvenating to his soul. He revels in the blissful winter day and the beauty of the forest around him. 

He hears a whoop to his left, and ducks to the ground as a familiar looking horse and rider soar over the path - and his head. 

"Scott, I swear, you are going to kill me one day!"

"Brother, you were in no danger. Tálagor has been working on his leaps," Scott boasts, patting his horse lovingly.

Stiles huffs but brings forth a carrot out of the ground with his magic to feed the gentle beast. 

"I must be off, Scott. Father has me checking on the west edge."

"I heard about the human intruder. Would you like some company?"

"No need, brother. I am confident this will be a simple erasing spell and he will be on his way with no memory of us."

The brothers part with a quick hug and Stiles continues on his journey. It is not far to the west gate, and Stiles finds himself humming along with the birds as he walks. Pretty soon, he feels a lingering presence in the clearing ahead. He reigns in his flower path and calls out to the stranger. 

"Traveler, I think you are lost. I can help you find your way home."

When no answer comes, he steps closer. When he finally rounds the brush and steps into the meadow, he finds a rugged man, his dark hair matted with sweat and his clothing covered in dirt. An arrow protrudes from his right shoulder. 

Stiles gasps and falls to his knees beside the man. He lays his hand upon the man's chest and begins a healing chant. The wound looks to be deep and infected. His chants will only help to stop the spread of the infection and the loss of blood. He will need to take the man to his infirmary for an herbal treatment. 

He breaks off the arrow's shaft and uses his magic to quickly push the arrowhead from his shoulder. With that, the man let out a pained groan but quickly returned to an unconscious state. Stiles rips a large piece of fabric from his robe to help stop the loss of blood.

Stiles sends up red sparks into the air, confident Scott will see them and come to his aid. Sure enough, the pounding of hooves soon reaches his ears and Scott races into the clearing. Jumping off his horse with his bow already pulled and ready to attack. 

"Scott this man has been shot with a black tipped arrow,” Stiles exclaims, holding up the bloodied arrowhead. “Do you know what that means!?"

Scott lowers his bow, and growls, "Argents."

"Please, help me get him on Tálagor's back. He needs athelas for his injuries."

Together they lift the unconscious man onto the horse, and Scott tells Stiles to ride with him. 

"I will run to Father with the news. Go!"

Usually, Stiles loved when Scott allowed him to ride his beloved horse. Today, however, it took all of his strength to keep both himself and the injured man upright as Tálagor tore through the forest. 

As the three passed through the royal gates, Stiles shouted at a few guards milling about to follow him. When he arrived at the infirmary, he sent one to fetch Lydia, another healer, while the others carried the man into the room and laid him on the first bed. 

It was only moments later that a whirl of red hair appeared in the corner of his eye. 

"Lydia, thank the gods, this man needs athelas. I do not know how long ago this arrow pierced his shoulder. Please tell me you replenished our stock."

"Of course, Stiles. I will prepare them now."

For reasons he could not explain, Stiles suddenly felt a bone-deep longing for this human he had never met. He felt in his soul a connection, or a beginning of one, that he knew without a doubt he would feel for many years, possibly forever. 

His mind was clear for the first time all morning, and as he leaned over the man's prone body, he lifted his hand to the man's neck to find the life pulse, beating weakly. His prayers became more fervent, and if his eyes had been opened he would have seen the yellow glow that began to emanate from his being. 

He faintly heard Lydia gasp but he could not pull away from the body in front of him. As he desperately repeated the last line of the healing verse, three silver tears ran down his cheek and onto the man's wound. 

Exhausted, Stiles slumped onto the man's chest, falling immediately into a deep sleep. 

:::

As Stiles slowly became conscious again, he noticed a change of scenery. He was now laying on his own bed in his room in the castle. He quickly sat up but was overcome with dizziness at his quick movements. 

“Stiles!” Scott jumped up from the seat he had taken at his brother’s bedside. “You’re awake! Are you feeling okay? Let me fetch Lydia.”

“I’m, I’m fine, Scott. Wait! Where is he? Where is the wounded man?”

“He’s still in the infirmary. He’s been asleep this whole time, though his wound seems to have healed completely. Lydia said it was healed before she even applied athelas. She said you were glowing. Stiles, do you know what happened?”

“I… I think I do.”

At that moment, the King, accompanied by his wife and Lydia, burst through the door. 

Stiles’ father rushed to his son’s side and embraced him. “Stiles, my son. I was so worried.”

“I’m okay,” Stiles replied, smiling at the family gathered around his bed. “I’m better than okay, actually. I feel… I feel like I’m on fire! Like I’m so much more alive than I ever knew was possible!”

“Son,” his father began. “Are you completely sure that this stranger is--” 

“Yes!” he interrupted. “This is who I’ve been dreaming about my entire life. Like mother did before she met you. He is my intended. Our bond is true.”

“Well,” Lydia spoke up. “How about you introduce yourself to him first. He is awake.”

:::

Stiles made his way to the infirmary. The man still lay on the same bed, but it looked as though he’d been given a bath and he was now dressed in clean, white linen clothing. His dark hair was swept back off his face and his tanned skin and stubbled jaw made Stiles’ heart stutter in his chest. He looked almost frightened, though, unaware of his surroundings, clutching at the blanket draped over his legs.

When he saw Stiles, he moved to sit up but winced.

“Don’t!” Stiles, exclaimed, rushing to his side. “It’s okay. You’re probably sore and a little dizzy. Magic has that effect on humans.” 

He sat at the empty chair beside the bed and placed his hand on the man’s arm. “How are you feeling?”

The man opened his mouth to speak, but at his rasping, Stiles lifted a glass of water to his lips. The man gratefully sipped the drink until he was able to answer.

“I feel fine, thanks to you. You shouldn’t have… You didn’t need... “ he cut off, looking down and shaking his head. “Why did you help me? I am nobody, especially to you.”

“What is your name?” Stiles asked after a silent moment.

“Derek,” the man replied. “Derek of Hale.”

“Well, Derek of Hale, you are not, in fact, nobody. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Derek, what do you know of Elves?”

“Only what I have read in the history books, of the great battle for Middle Earth. I know of Rivendell. But we are a long, long way from Rivendell.”

“Yes, that is true. But the Elves do not only reside in Rivendell. My family has made a home in these forests for centuries. My father has ruled this land for nearly one hundred and fifty years now, and his father before him. We call our home ‘Beacon,’ and usually, only fellow Elves can find their way into our boundaries.”

“Usually?”

“Yes, we do have the occasional human, dwarf, or other creature stumble upon us. But we send them on their way with no memory of ever being here. It has kept us safe and hidden for many moons. And you, Derek, are one of those few. But with your injury… I couldn’t let you die. So I brought you back here to heal.”

“Does it always happen this fast?” Derek asked, rubbing at the shoulder where the arrow had pierced, where only a small, faint scar remained.

Stiles shook his head. “I’ve never seen a human heal like you have.” 

Derek looked up and Stiles held his gaze, hoping that he, too, could feel the bond they now shared. 

Derek could reject him, of course. Stiles wouldn’t even hold it against him. But having to erase his memory of what had happened, of Stiles... that would hurt Stiles in a way he had never felt before. And Stiles would never grow to love another while Derek would find and love another partner. 

But if it was what Derek truly wanted, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“How would you like to take a walk about the castle? I think we could both use some exercise to get our strength back up. What do you say?”

Derek nodded in agreement, and Stiles helped him out of the bed, linking his arm through Derek’s strong, tan one and guiding him from the room. “We have a lot to talk about.”

As they walked, Stiles explained more about his people, his family, and his culture. He spoke of his father, the King, and his stepmother and stepbrother. He spoke of the loss of his mother when he was just a child, and how she had raised him to be a strong healer. 

And finally, he explained how he had been able to heal Derek’s wound so quickly and thoroughly. He told him of the bond they now shared, how they could be soul-bound for life, and how Derek could simply choose to leave without performing the bonding ritual but that he would have to have his memories of his time here erased.

Of course, Stiles left out the part about what the toll bond rejection would have on him. All Derek needed to know was that, no matter what he chose, Stiles would comply with his wishes. 

“I don’t want you to rush into an answer or anything,” Stiles said. “You can have all the time you need to think about all I’ve told you. I know you’re probably not comfortable here, but in time, I hope you can feel like this is a home for you.”

“I do, though,” Derek replied. “Feel comfortable, that is. I feel as though I’ve known you a lot longer than the past few hours. Like you are a memory I am reacquainting with.”

This revelation filled Stiles with warmth and happiness. Though Derek could still choose to leave this all behind, it felt like he was going to give them a chance.

Derek looked weary at the end of their walk, so Stiles suggested he rest. Stiles led him to a guest room in the castle, which would be much more comfortable than the infirmary. 

“We can talk more in the morning, Derek. And my father would like to speak with you as well. You will be well-cared for here, Derek, I promise you that. In fact, might I recommend a hot tea or chocolate to warm you before you sleep? I can have our cook make it right away!”

Derek smiled at the gesture. “That sounds lovely, Stiles. I haven’t indulged in hot chocolate since I was a boy.”

Stiles grinned at that. “I will have it brought to you. Rest well, Derek. We will see each other when the day is new again.”

:::

When Stiles made his way to the dining hall the next morning, he found that Derek was already there and speaking quietly with Scott and the King. No doubt discussing why Derek had been shot with an Argent arrow. 

However, they ceased their conversation when the King noticed Stiles’ presence. 

“Son, how nice of you to finally join us!”

Stiles sat down beside Derek, who gave him a sweet, bright smile. The kind of smile Stiles could let himself get used to seeing every morning.

“So, what have I missed?” Stiles asked, reaching for a small piece of lembas. 

“A lot, actually,” Scott began. “Derek told him he had been on a mission from the Queen of Hale. He had tracked the Argents down and disguised himself as one of their own. He was able to travel with them for months before they discovered him. He was shot escaping, but he has much valuable information about the Argents’ plans and whereabouts that he needs to get back to the Queen’s court.”

“Did you know, Stiles,” the King interjected, “that Derek himself is the Crown Prince of Hale. His mother, Talia, is the Queen.”

Stiles gaped at Derek. “You let me go on and on last night, talking about soul bonds and Elven history, and you didn’t tell me that very important piece of information?”

“To be fair,” Scott said, “you talk an awful lot, Stiles.”

Derek tried but failed to hold back a smile. “I enjoyed hearing you talk. It was soothing.”

“That’s it. They’re definitely made for each other,” the King exclaimed, letting his fork clatter on his breakfast plate. “Come, Scott. We must speak to the council about our plans to aid Queen Talia in the fight against the Argents.” 

“WHAT?” Stiles squawked, but the two had already left the room.

“Your father has agreed to send an army to help us fight the Argents. Stiles, they are killing our people and taking our lands. They wish to overthrow the House of Hale and kill all who bear the name. They are a power-hungry faction who will not be easy to overtake alone.”

“Oh, Derek,” Stiles whispered, reaching up to cup Derek’s stubbled cheek and smooth his thumb over the worried creases under his eyes. 

“I know that we don’t know each other that well, Stiles, but this bond that you speak of, I can feel it tugging on my heart. I know that there is so much more I want to learn about you, but right now, I have to protect my family and my home. I hope that you can understand.”

Stiles smiled sadly, “I do understand. And believe me when I say that I will wait for you. No matter how long it takes. You are the only one for me, Derek of Hale. You are my soul’s perfect mate.”

Derek exhaled the breath he was holding in relief, and leaned closer to Stiles, allowing their foreheads to rest against each other. “Thank you,” he whispered, before bringing their lips together in a chaste but lingering kiss. 

The next day, Stiles sends Derek off with the Beacon army, led by Scott, with whispered chants and athelas for strength and healing, and with a kiss that did not taste of goodbye, but of promise.

:::

A year and a half later, when all of the corrupt Argents have been killed or imprisoned and the people of Hale are once again safe and free, Stiles and Derek meet again in the enchanted forest of Beacon. But this time, they are celebrating the victory, new allies and family, and, of course, their wedding day.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not well-versed in Lord of the Rings, so please don't judge that part too harshly!


End file.
